


Moments in the Woods

by wallpidgeon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Into the Woods (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:10:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3294977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallpidgeon/pseuds/wallpidgeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time in a far-off kingdom, there lay a small village at the edge of the woods. And in this village lived an orphaned boy, a carefree young lad, and a childless baker and his wife. Also twin princes, a pretty girl with a red cape, and a young maiden who was trapped in a tower. And a few other people, but we’ll get to them later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Prologue

_Once upon a time in a far-off kingdom, there lay a small village at the edge of the woods. And in this village lived an orphaned boy, a carefree young lad, and a childless baker and his wife. Also twin princes, a pretty girl with a red cape, and a young maiden who was trapped in a tower. And a few other people, but we’ll get to them later._

Harry Potter lived a hard knock life. His parents died in a carriage accident when he was only a baby, leaving him in the hands of his aunt and uncle. The Dursleys were mean and cruel, and their son Dudley was no better. Dudley’s favorite pastimes included making Harry’s life even harder than it already was. The Dursleys were rich and had plenty of money to go around, but they forced Harry to wear rags and they didn’t feed him nearly as much as they should’ve.

In the same village lived a boy named Neville Longbottom. His parents were dead, like Harry’s. Unlike Harry, Neville lived with his bossy yet loving grandmother. They didn’t have much to live on, with a shabby home and a cow that just wouldn’t produce milk. Neville’s grandmother spends her days wishing she lived a better life with finer things. Neville spends his daydreaming and talking to the cow, whom he calls Trevor.

Remus and Nymphadora Lupin were a happy couple. They met when they were young, fell in love, and married. Remus owned a bakery that he had inherited from his parents. The bakery helped them maintain a good life, not luxurious but certainly not terrible. They did have one problem though; no matter how hard they tried, they just couldn’t have a child.

**\-----**

Vernon Dursley was a large, round man with hardly any neck. Petunia Dursley was a very thin woman with twice as much neck as a normal person. Dudley took heavily after his father. They were sitting at their large dining table, which was served with enough breakfast to feed a small village. The Dursleys had a few servants, but they preferred to make Harry do everything, as they didn’t have to pay him anything. Harry had spent most of his seventeen years cleaning, cooking, and doing other tasks for his aunt and uncle.

“Uncle Vernon,” Harry said quietly and nervously. He had a question for his uncle, and his uncle hated questions. He especially hated questions that involved Harry asking for something. If Dudley were to ask for something, Vernon would go to any lengths to get it for him. Harry rarely asked for anything, and when he did, all he got was called greedy and ungrateful.

“What is it, boy?” His uncle asked grumpily through a mouthful of bacon.

Harry cleared his throat. “I wish… more than anything…” he trailed off. His uncle looked at him expectantly. “More than life, more than jewels…”

“Use your words,” His aunt said irritatedly. “We taught you to speak, what is it you wish?”

“The King is giving a festival,” Harry hesitated. “I wish to go the festival.”

Vernon laughed harshly, mockingly. “You wish to go to the festival?”

Dudley and Petunia laughed as well. “You, Potter, the festival? The King’s festival?” Harry bowed his head in embarrassment. He knew they would say no.

“The festival,” Vernon laughed. _“Ha!_ Look at your hair! Look at your clothes! People would laugh at you!”

“Nevertheless, I still want to go to the festival.” Harry was used to being laughed at, anyway.

Vernon stood, picked up the pail of lentils at the edge of the dining table, and tossed them into the fireplace. Harry watched him, bewildered. “Potter, if you can pick up these lentils, and finish your chores in time, then you may go to the festival with us. Now, come along,” he said to his wife and son. “We have to go into town today to get outfits for the festival.” The Dursleys left, leaving Harry behind, as usual.

Harry stared helplessly into the fireplace. Then he got an idea. He ran to the window on the other side of the room, and opened it. Three owls fluttered into the dining room. “Please, owls, can you help me pick up these lentils?” He pleaded. “Quick, owls. Flick through the ashes. Pick and peck, but swiftly. Sift through the ashes.”  The owls got to work, collecting the lentils from the fireplace and depositing them into the pail. They flew back through the window once they had done, and Harry closed the window after them. He hurried off to finish the rest of his chores before the Dursleys returned.

**\-----**

Neville Longbottom was a young man in his early teens. His parents had died when he was young, and he now lived with his father’s mother, his grandmother.

Neville sighed. He sat before his cow, Trevor. “I wish my cow would give us some milk. Please, Trevor.” Trevor was an old cow with hair as white as milk. Neville had brought Trevor into the small house he shared with his grandmother, hoping he would be able to produce milk if the cow was warm he might produce milk. “Please, Trevor. I wish you’d give us some milk, or even cheese. Please.”

His grandmother, Augusta, was walking into the house. She was at her wit’s end. “I wish my grandson were not a fool,” she murmured to herself. “I wish my house was not a mess. I wish my house was not a mess. I wish the cow was full of milk, I wish the walls were full of gold.” She sighed. “I wish a lot of things.” She entered her grandson’s room and was shocked to see the cow inside. _“What in heaven's name are you doing with the cow inside the house?”_ She asked angrily.

Neville looked at her sheepishly. I thought if he got nice and warm, he might produce some milk,” he answered.

“It’s a she,” his grandmother sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you, only shes can give milk?” Neville just shrugged. “Get the cow outdoors, Neville. Now.” Neville complied, grabbing the rope around Trevor’s neck and maneuvering her outside.

“Now, listen to me well, son,” his grandmother told him outside. Trevor must be taken to the market.”

“But, gran, no!” Neville protested. “He's the best cow in the world-”

“Was!” She corrected. “She has been dry for weeks now, with no food or money, we've got no choice but to sell her. Look at her.”

“But, gran! Trevor’s my best friend!”

“Look at her! There are bugs on her dugs. There are flies in her eyes. There's a lump on her rump, big enough to be a hump-”

“But-”

“We've no time to sit and dither, while her wither's wither with her. And no one keeps a cow for a friend!” Augusta shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder what's goin' on in that head of yours.” She handed Neville his jacket. “Now, get on, boy. Through the woods, you’ll be selling him in the next village.”

Neville pulled on his jacket, but he hesitated. There weren’t many people his age in the village, and even they didn’t want to hang out with him. Neville was socially awkward, and he didn’t see anything wrong with having a cow as his best friend. He didn’t want to sell his best friend. “Alright fine,” he said sadly. “But why do I have to go to the next village?”

“Because everyone in this village knows the cow hasn’t given a drop of milk in weeks,” she explained. “No one here would buy her.”

Neville gave her a look. “That’s cheating,” he said.

Augusta looked like she wanted to shake her grandson. “We’re _starving_ , Neville!” Nevilled sighed. “Don’t you understand that? Now, you're not to accept less than five pounds for her. Are you listening to me?”

“Yes,” he said sadly.

His grandmother tested him. “How much are you to ask?”

“No more than five pounds.” Neville began to walk away, pulling the cow behind him by her leash.

“Less than five!” His grandmother became very anxious. Neville nodded in understanding, but she still was unsure. She loved the boy, but he often had his head in my butts. “Into the woods, the time is now. We have to live, I don't care how. Into the woods to sell the cow, you must begin the journey!” She called after her retreating grandson. “Straight to the woods and don't delay! You have to face the marketplace. Into the woods to journey's end!”

“Into the woods to sell a friend,” Neville mumbled sadly, looking back at his cow Trevor.

**\-----**

Remus Lupin was a baker. He hadn’t been very good at baking at first. He had inherited the bakery from his parents, and he felt a responsibility to keep it running. It was Nymphadora who had shown him how to bake. Together they kept the business up, making enough money for the couple to live fairly nice life on. It seemed they had everything they could wish for. Except…

“I wish we had a child,” Nymphadora said quietly. It was a nice morning, and the bakery had just opened. Remus was sitting behind the counter, reading a book and waiting for their first customer.

“More than anything,” Remus answered quietly. A child was something they had both wanted for years. All of their friends had children by then. But try as they might, Nymphadora and Remus just couldn’t seem to have children.

Just then, a pretty young girl entered the bakery. She looked to be about sixteen, and had long, fiery red hair that was tied into two separate braids. She wore a nice red cloak around her shoulders. The red cloak mixed with the color of her hair made people think of fire when they looked at her.

“I wish… It's not for me, it's for my great aunt in the woods.” She said when she entered the shop. “A loaf of bread, please… To bring my poor old hungry great aunt in the woods… Just a loaf of bread, please…”

Nymphadora nodded. “Of course, that won’t be a problem. Remus, get the girl a loaf of bread.” Nymphadora was kindhearted towards children, and was always willing to help people. Remus hesitated, but wasn’t one to say no to his wife. He grabbed a loaf of bread for the girl from one of the tables. The girl, who introduced herself as Ginny, grabbed the loaf from his hands.

“Where did you say your great aunt lived again?” Nymphadora asked. “The woods? That’s a bit of a journey.”

“Who lives in the woods, anyways?” Remus asked. a little skeptical.

“Into the woods, it's time to go. I hate to leave, I have to go,” Ginny said in a slightly sing-song voice. “Into the woods, it's time, and so I must begin my journey,” she skipped around the small bakery, gathering more rolls and loaves of bread in her arms and pockets. “Into the woods and through the trees to where I am expected ma'am. Into the woods to my great aunt’s house.”

“You repeat yourself a lot, don’t you?” Remus said.

“You’re certain of your way?” Nymphadora said, hushing her husband.

Ginny nodded happily. “The way is clear, the light is good. I have no fear, nor no one should.” The bread she had gathered in her arms began to fall. “I sort of hate to ask it, but do you have a basket?” She asked, stuffing a roll into her mouth.

“Yes, we do.” Nymphadora answered, going behind the counter to grab one.  
Remus looked at his wife exasperatingly. “I don’t suppose you’re planning on buying any of these?” He asked Ginny. Nymphadora hushed him.

Nymphadora handed Ginny a basket, and the girl began loading it up with the bread. “Now, don’t stray and be late, alright?” Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

“You might save some of those for your great aunt,” Remus said grumpily. Ginny grabbed the last of the rolls. “Oh my-”

“Hush,” Nymphadora said, swatting his arm. “Just leave it.” Ginny waved at them before skipping out the door, humming to herself.

“She’s a thief!” Remus said. It was too late, however. All of their bread was gone, and so was Ginny.

**\-----**

“Well, I guess we’re closed for the day,” Remus said unhappily. They had made no money that day, and they were out of things to sell.

“We’ll be open again tomorrow,” Nymphadora said brightly. She loved children. “Don’t worry about it, love.”

Just then there was a pounding on the door. “Who might that be?” Remus wondered.

“We’ve sold our last loaf of bread!” Nymphadora called, thinking it was just a customer looking for food.

There was no reply. Remus crept towards to windows and peeked outside. He gasped. “It’s the witch from next door!” He whispered.

The door burst open, and there stood the witch. Her name was Bellatrix Lestrange. No one knew much about her, and she was rarely seen. She never caused anyone in the village trouble, so no one bothered her. She was old, and ugly, with wild, tangle grey hair and wrinkled skin. She wore a ragged looking black dress. Remus backed up into the corner, grabbing onto a table for stability. Nymphadora tried her best not to be afraid, and grabbed the book that was sitting on the counter, as if she could defend herself with it. “We have no bread…” Nymphadora said quietly.

“I don’t want your bread,” Bellatrix said softly, creeping closer to Nymphadora. Remus moved closer to his wife on instinct.

“Then what is it you wish?” He said bravely. The witch looked at him now, and he backed away in fear. She was a frightening looking woman.

“It's not what I wish, It's what you wish,” Bellatrix said knowingly. “Nothing cooking in that belly now is there?” Nymphadora gasped. “And there will never be, unless you do exactly as I say.” The couple just stared at her. “In three days time a blue-moon will appear, only then can the curse be, undone.”

“What curse?” Nymphadora asked, afraid now.

“The one I placed on this house,” Bellatrix said in an offhand sort of way, as if she was just talking about the weather.

“What are you talking about?” Remus asked, almost angry, but also afraid.

“In the past, when you were no more than a babe,” Bellatrix began. “Your father brought his young wife and you to this cottage. They were a lovely couple,” she smiled, and then her smile faded away just as fast. “But not lovely neighbors. You see… your mother was with child, and she developed an unusual appetite.”

“She admired my beautiful garden, and she told your father that what she wanted more than anything in the world, was… Greens, greens, nothing but greens; parsley, peppers, cabbages and celery, asparagus and watercress and fiddleferns and lettuce. He said, ‘All right,’ but it wasn't, quite. ‘Cause I caught him in the autumn in my garden one night! He was robbing me, rooting through my rutabaga, raiding my arugula and ripping up the rampion! My champion! My favorite!”

“I should have laid a spell on him right there, I could have turned him into stone. Or a dog… Or a chair…” The witch laughed softly to herself. “But I let him have the rampion, I'd lots to spare. In return, however, I said, "Fair is fair: you can let me have the baby that your wife will bear. And we'll call it square."

Remus looked at her in horror. “I had a brother?”

“No,” Bellatrix said, shaking her head. “But, you had a sister.”

“Where is she?” Remus asked. He had always wanted a sibling growing up.

“She's mine now!” Bellatrix growled. “And you'll never find her. Small price to pay for what else your father stole from me. It cost me my youth, my beauty. My mother warned me she would punish me with the curse of ugliness if I ever lost any of them.”

“Lost what?” Nymphadora asked nervously.

“The beans!” She answered.

“Beans?” Nymphadora and Remus asked simultaneously.

“The special beans… I'd let him go, I didn't know he'd stolen my beans,” she said, visibly upset now. “I was watching him crawl back over the wall, then _bang! Crash! A lightning flash!_ And… well, that's another story, never mind.

“Anyway, at last the big day came, and I made my claim. ‘Oh, don't take away the baby,’ they shrieked and screeched,” Bellatrix spoke in a mocking imitation of Remus’s parents. “But I did, and I hid her where she'll never be reached. And your father cried, and your mother… well, died. When for extra measure, and I admit it was a pleasure- I said, ‘Sorry, I'm still not mollified.’ And I laid a little spell on them… You, too, son. That your family tree would always be a barren one…” Nymphadora gasped in horror.

“How could you do that?” Remus asked angrily.

“And when your mother died, your father deserted you. Your father was no father so why should you be?” The witch taunted. Remus clenched his fists. “So there's no more fuss, and there's no more scenes. And my garden thrives, you should see my nectarines! But I'm telling you the same I tell kings and queens; don't ever never ever mess around with my greens! Especially the beans,” she said, finishing her story.

“Why are you telling us this?” Nymphadora asked. “Why don’t you just go,” she said bravely.

“Don’t you wish to have the curse reversed?”  
“We can reverse it?” Remus asked at the same time Nymphadora said, “Yes, of course, how?”

“I’ll need a certain potion first,” Bellatrix said, pacing back and forth. “Go to the woods and bring me back the cow as white as milk, the cape as red as blood, the hair as yellow as corn, and the shoe as pure as gold,” she said, counting on her gnarled fingers as she listed off the ingredients. “Bring me these before the chime of midnight in three day's time. Tis’ then the blue moon reappears, which comes but once each hundred years. Just bring them and I guarantee a child as perfect as child can be. Go to the wood!” And the witch disappeared in a butt of grey smoke.

**\-----**

The Dursleys were about to leave in their carriage for the festival. Vernon was hurrying his wife and son out of the doors when Harry caught up with them.

“Uncle Vernon, I finished my chores. Now may I go to the festival?” Harry asked hopefully.

His uncle looked at him. “The festival? You look like a mess. You may have finished your chores but looking like that, you’d make us the fools of the festival! You’d mortify us all!” Petunia and Dudley laughed behind him.

“The festival lasts three nights,” Harry argued. “Surely you could let me be there for one of them?” He begged.

Petunia laughed harder. “What business do you have at the festival? Trying to find a maiden? No one wants to marry a servant, my dear.”

“We must be gone,” Vernon said. “Our carriage awaits!” The Dursleys climbed into their carriage outside, still laughing mockingly at Harry.

Harry sat down on the steps in front of their house sadly. “I still wish to go to the festival,” he said to himself. But how am I ever to get to the festival?” An idea came to him. “I know! I’ll visit my parents grave!” He stood. “Their grave is at the willow tree in the woods. I’ll tell them I wish to go to the king’s festival!”

**\-----**

“Here, take your father’s coat,” Nymphadora said, pushing the clothing into her husband’s arms. They were preparing to journey into the woods.

“I want nothing to do with him,” Remus said, giving her the coat. “It’s his fault we’re in this mess in the first place.” Nymphadora sighed and hung the coat back up on the coatrack. As she was hanging it, something fell out of the pocket and onto the floor.

“Beans?” Nymphadora said in surprise, leaning down to gather them all up, six in total. “These must be the witch’s beans! We’ll take them with us.” She put the beans into her own pocket.

“We?” Remus asked.

“We!” Nymphadora answered. “Did you think I would stay behind?”

“You can’t come,” Remus shook his head. “It’s not safe out there.”

“I can help you!” She said. “The spell is on our house. We must lift the spell together. Do you even remember the ingredients?”

“Of course I do,” Remus answered. “Er… Maybe not, actually.”

His wife sighed. “The cow as white as milk, the cape as red as blood, the hair as yellow as corn, the shoe as pure as gold. You need me to do this.”

“Fine,” Remus answered, sighing. He just couldn’t say no to her. “Into the woods.”


	2. Chapter Two: The Story Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to post this! There's not many chapters left, and I have more free time now, so hopefully I'll be finishing this story soon. I didn't have time to go through the text (which was copy pasted from google docs) so nothing is italicized.

The story of Lily and James Potter was a sad one. They had died when Harry was about seven; in a tragic carriage crash, according to his aunt and uncle. Of course, his aunt and uncle often lied, so he could never be sure if they were telling him the truth. Harry had planted a branch at the grave of his late parents, and many tears had watered it until it had become a handsome willow tree.

Harry knelt down at the base of the tree.  “I've been good and I've been kind, mom and dad. I’ve been doing only what I learned from you. Why then am I left behind? Is there something more that I should do?” He ran his hands through his unruly black hair in frustration. He had always done what his aunt and uncle had told him, yet they still refused to treat him with even a shred of respect. “What is wrong with me? Something must be wrong. I wish-”

But then the image of his parents appeared within the tree, glistening among the branches. “Do you know what you wish? Are you certain what you wish? Is what you want?” The ghost of his mother asked him. Harry nodded fervently in response.

“If you know what you want, then make a wish. Ask the tree, and you shall have your wish,” said the ghost of his father.

“Shiver and quiver, little tree,” Harry said to the great willow. “Silver and gold throw down on me.” The rags that Harry normally wore transformed into a fine suit before his eyes. The dull grey clothing had turned gold and silver. He no longer looked poor and disheveled. He could’ve passed as a prince if he wanted to. “I'm off to get my wish…”

Ginny Weasley walked through the familiar path through the woods that would lead her to her great aunt’s home. She had been skipping, until she started to get the feeling that someone, or something, was following her. She heard a faint growl somewhere off in the woods. The fluttering red cape she wore around her shoulders and the flowery scent that lingered about her seemed to have caught the attention of a wolf.

Even for a werewolf, Fenrir Greyback was despicable. While most of his kind preferred to keep to themselves, Fenrir preferred to mingle with the humans. Most werewolves went into isolation on full moons. Fenrir liked to place himself near villages. Fenrir wanted to hunt. And even when he was in his normal human form, he still looked wolflike. He acted so inhuman that he started to look inhuman. When he was in his human form, he still liked to hunt. Other werewolves were repulsed by him. Fenrir didn’t care.

He lived alone in the woods. Sort of an odd place to reside in, of course, but that was to be expected when it came to Fenrir. He never did anything normally. Whenever an innocent passerby walked by his cave in the woods, he began his hunt. Unfortunately for Ginny, she happened to walk by his cave. His hunt had started.

Now, Fenrir hadn’t always lived in the woods. In fact, he had only lived there for a week, which is why Ginny hadn’t found him until now. He used to live in a village further from the castle, as he didn’t want to be caught by the kingsguard. He had found a nice little village, within the kingdom but removed enough so that the royals wouldn’t really notice if anything bad happened inside of it. Unfortunately for him, the villagers decided to banish him. They literally chased him out of his home with pitchforks and torches. Fenrir could see he was unwelcome, so he decided to leave. He packed up his few belongings and fled the village. Now he was living in a cave in the woods.

Although he hated living in a cave like some kind of beast, his new home had proved to be a good place to live. Not only did people pass by his cave fairly often, there was also a fresh stream nearby and plenty of animals to hunt if no humans presented themselves. He would never go hungry in the woods, and with some effort he could make his cave more livable. In the week he had lived there, he had built a door for his cave, as well as a bed. He also strung some lanterns around the roof of the cave, which really brightened it up significantly.

Now enough about Fenrir Greyback. He’s not even a main character, who cares about him? Let’s talk about Ginny Weasley.

Ginny was the youngest of a family of five children, and the only girl. Her older brothers had all come of age, and they were all married (save for Charlie, who refused to even consider marriage). Ginny was now the only child still living at home, and she was very lonely now. Every week or so, her parents sent her into the woods to keep her great aunt company. It might be of interest to know that Ginny’s great aunt Muriel was a despicable woman. The only reason Ginny was sent down once in a while was so Muriel wouldn’t get agitated and come back to the village, where no one wanted her around. Muriel was a mean old woman who always found something to complain about.

Ginny absolutely hated having to visit her great aunt. But every other week she skipped down the path into the woods to sit with the old lady for an hour and listen to her complain about how lonely she was in the woods and nitpick at Ginny’s appearance. She couldn’t wait until her niece Victoire, her oldest brother’s daughter, was older; because then it would be Victoire who was sent to keep Muriel company, and not Ginny. Ginny figured that if Muriel kept clinging to life as she was currently, she’d be stuck paying her visits for about nine more years.

I think that’s plenty of backstory for now.

Ginny Weasley was walking through the familiar path through the woods that would lead her to her great aunt’s home. She was cautious and wary now, as she had gotten the feeling that she was being followed. The faint wolf-like growl she had heard seemed to confirm this idea. She wasn’t too scared, however. Ginny was rarely scared. She gripped the empty basket tighter and kept on her way.

Suddenly, Fenrir Greyback was blocking the path in front of her. “Good day, young lady,” he said in a low, yet seemingly friendly, growl.

“Good day, Mr. Wolf,” Ginny said bravely. She stepped off the path to attempt to move around him, but he blocked her again.

“Hello, little girl. What’s your rush?” He moved in front of her, keeping her from leaving his sight no matter which direction she turned. “You’re missing all the flowers,” he gestured to a patch of daisies to the right. “The sun won’t set for hours, take you time.”

Ginny shook her head. “My mother told me to go straight ahead, not to delay or be misled. I must be going, Mr. Wolf. I’m off to visit my great aunt.” She moved around him, and he allowed her to this time. But he followed close behind her. Fenrir was a determined werewolf.

“But slow, little girl,” he said. “Hark and hush; the birds are singing sweetly. You’ll miss the birds completely.” Ginny hesitated a moment, but continued on. She was determined to get to her great aunt’s house so she could get back home quickly. “One moment, my dear!”

“I’m not a little girl, by the way,” Ginny said. “And my mother told me to follow the path and never stray, no matter what. I tend to listen to my mother.”

“Just so, young woman,” he argued. “There are so many paths worth exploring. Just one would be so boring! Why not pick some flowers for your grandmother? Unless you’re planning on giving her an empty basket.”

“Great aunt,” she corrected him. “Still I suppose… Just a small delay. My great aunt might like a nice bouquet,” she said thoughtfully. She knew, of course, that her great aunt would be annoyed to have only been brought a bouquet of wild flowers. However, she would be even more annoyed if she was brought nothing. So she picked some pretty yellow flowers for Muriel, collecting them in the basket that formerly held goods from the bakery; the werewolf watching over her. After she had collected a large amount of flowers, she bid Fenrir goodbye. “Goodbye, Mr. Wolf,” she said, nodding her head at him before skipping to the path.

“Goodbye, young woman,” Fenrir said with a faint growl. “And hello,” he whispered once she was out of earshot.

Luna had no last name, but that wasn’t strange to her. As far as she knew, no one had a last name. She was just Luna. She had been raised in a tower, far away from other people, by her mother. She had always lived in that tall tower, away from civilization, so that wasn’t strange to her either. And never in her eighteen years of life had she ever received a haircut, and that made sense to her. How else was her mother supposed to get into the tower?

What was strange was her mother’s behavior. She had seemed… withdrawn lately. She had less interest in talking with her daughter. Most visits lasted less than an hour. Her mother seemed busy. And her mother would usually visit the tower at least once a day. Recently, however, her mother had been absent. Luna was lucky if she was in her mother’s company for four days out of the week. It used to be that a day rarely passed that Luna’s mother wouldn’t come to the tower and ask Luna to let her hair down.

Luna’s hair is of particular interest here. As mentioned earlier, she was eighteen years old and had never had her hair cut. In eighteen years, her blond hair had grown long enough to be thrown from the top of her tall tower and have it reach the ground below. That was how Bellatrix got into the tower, via Luna’s hair.

Luna was often bored in her tower. She had plenty of books, but she had already read them all multiple times. She liked to paint and draw, but she had run out of inspiration. There wasn’t much inside her little tower to be inspired by. One could only paint the sunset over the forest so many times. She only had one window, and the only outdoors she had ever known was the view of the woods from high in her tower. It was an excellent view, but it didn’t compare to actually being outside in the world. Luna longed to explore the world outside of her tower, but she also knew it was dangerous. There were monsters out there, her mother had warned her of them. Luna was safer in her tower where no one could do her harm. The world was a dangerous place and it was no place for a girl like Luna, her mother would tell her. Luna was one to listen to what her mother told her.

The tower was another thing most people would find strange. It was very tall, as previously stated; it stood about seven stories high. Although the tower had plenty of room, there were only two rooms. The first room, the highest point in the tower, was where Luna spent most of her time. The first room also contained the only window in the tower. The second room, which was right below the first, was where Luna kept things she didn’t have room for above, such as her art supplies and books and clothes.

Lately she had taken to sitting in her window and watching the world around her. She wasn’t sure what she was watching for. Her mother’s arrival, perhaps? She just had this feeling that something was going to happen soon. And then something did happen.

Far away from Luna’s tower in the woods, was the castle that ruled the land. The woods and all the surrounding villages were under the jurisdiction of that castle. The king that lived in the castle and ruled over the kingdom was growing old, unfortunately. He was a beloved king, cared about by nearly everyone in the kingdom. He had two sons, Fred and George, that he needed to find wives for. He also had a daughter named Romilda, but he had long since given up on finding someone for her to marry as she tended to unintentionally scare away most suitors.

Finding wives for his sons was a harder task than expected. His sons both had their hearts set on two commoners from the neighboring kingdom. The king wanted his sons to find women in their own kingdom, but they were opposed to it. The festival the king was throwing was an attempt to have his sons meet girls from this kingdom.

One day George was riding his horse through the woods. This was something he and his brother did often. The woods were vast and no matter how much time the pair spent exploring them they always found something new each time they ventured out.

As George was exploring the woods, he heard a sound. Not to say that the woods were usually silent and that this sound he was hearing was much of a big deal. The woods were always full of sound; birds chirping and rivers flowing and the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. The sound he was hearing just then was a new sound; the sound of singing. A beautiful soprano voice could be heard somewhere in the distance. George decided to find the source of this song.

When he did find the singer, he was surprised. He was used to finding new things in the woods, but he never expected to find the tower. He had found a few small houses in the woods, but never anything this big. There didn’t appear to be an entrance to the tower, but there was a window all the way at the top. Faintly in the window he could see a girl with golden blonde hair.

“Hello, young maiden!”

Luna was surprised to hear a voice calling to her from the ground below. It certainly wasn’t her mother’s voice; this voice was much deeper. A man? Luna had never seen a man before, except for in the illustrations that some of her books had.

She peered down at the ground out of her window curiously. Below stood a well dressed redheaded man. “Hello, stranger!” she called back. She was very curious, as she had never spoken to anyone besides her mother.

“What’s your name?” He asked loudly.

“Luna,” she shouted back. “And yours?”

“George!” He paused for a moment. “Is there a way into that tower of yours? I don’t see any doors or any other way up there, and I’d like to visit you.”

“Yes there is!” She answered, while curiously wondering what a door was. She had never heard of a door before.

George looked a little confused, as she didn’t tell what him her method of getting into the tower was. A few moments later several feet of golden hair began to stream out of the tower. Her long hair, which had never been cut, served as a rope to climb up. “I’m supposed to climb your hair?” He asked to confirm, hesitantly.

“Of course!” She answered. “Don’t worry, it’s strong!” Although, she didn’t know if her hair would hold the weight of a man. She was used to using her hair to help her frail mother up. And the man on the ground below was certainly bigger than her mother.

Although he wasn’t entirely sure about climbing the hair of a strange girl he met in the woods, George was never one to turn down an adventure. He took hold of her hair and gave it a soft tug, worried she might be pulled out of the tower, but she didn’t budge.

“Fred will never believe this story,” he mumbled to himself as he began to climb Luna’s hair.

“How are we even supposed to find this stuff in the woods?” Remus asked his wife incredulously. “A cow? A cape? A slipper? These things don’t grow on trees, do they?”

“We’ll find them,” Nymphadora said, waving her hand at him in dismissal. “The witch told us to look in the woods, so that’s where we’ll find them.” Remus just sighed.

They had been walking through the woods for about an hour and Remus was losing hope. Nymphadora insisted that they would be able to find all of the ingredients in the woods.

“Do you hear that?” Nymphadora asked, a look of concentration on her face. They both paused to listen. “It sounds like music,” she whispered.

Indeed it was. Right before them passed a young girl, humming to herself and picking flowers. They recognised her as the girl that had visited their bakery that morning. Around her neck she wore a scarlet red cape.

“The cape as red as blood,” Remus said quietly to his wife. She nodded excitedly. He decided to approach the girl. “Ah, hello young lady. That’s a nice cape you’ve got there.”

She looked at him warily. “Thank you,” she said slowly, drawing the cape closer around her with one hand.

Nymphadora appeared beside Remus. “Where’d you get that red cape?” She asked, trying her best to sound casual.

Ginny just stared at them. “My mother made it for me. Why do you ask?”

Remus froze, not knowing how to respond. Nymphadora said, “Well, I’ve got a younger sister who just loved the color red. And she’s in need of a new cape.” She paused to think for a moment. “Maybe we could buy yours?”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Buy my cape?”

Nymphadora nodded. “Yes, I’d like to buy your cape.”

“Do you have money?”

Nymphadora paused again. “Well… no. But,” she began to dig into her pocket. “I have magic beans.” Remus stared at her. “I’ll give you three for that cape.”

Ginny gave Remus and Nymphadora a look of confusion. She shook her head slowly. “I think I’ll just keep my cape.” She began to walk away.

“No!” Remus grabbed at the cape. Ginny screamed, yanking it away from him. “We need your cape!”

“Back off!” She yelled. Remus backed away in defeat and Ginny ran away.

“Well done,” Nymphadora told her husband sarcastically.

Remus sighed. “Well I tried.” They began walking again, but in a different direction than Ginny had gone. Perhaps they’d find the cape somewhere else.

“I told you we’d find those items in the woods,” Nymphadora said after a while in a matter-of-fact tone.

“But what about the other items? How are we supposed to find a cow in the woods?” He asked. “Cows don’t live in the woods. I think she’s just messing with us, sending us on a wild goose chase.”

“No, I think she genuinely needs our help,” Nymphadora said, stumbling over a tree root. Remus grabbed her arm to steady her.

“She’s the witch. She hated my parents. She probably hates me,” Remus reasoned. “And why do we need to get these things for her? Surely she could get them herself.”

Nymphadora sighed. “I’m sure she has her reasons, alright? Let’s just do as she told us. Do you remember the list?”

“Of course I do!” He said indignantly. “The cape as red as blood, the cow as white as milk, the shoes as yellow as corn-”

“The shoes as pure as gold!” She corrected him. “It’s the dress shoes as pure as gold and the hair as yellow as corn.”

Remus groaned. “What’s the difference? They’re both yellow.”

“Gold and yellow are not the same thing, Remus!”

The stopped moving when they heard a moo. “Was that a cow?” Nymphadora asked under her breath. Remus just nodded, confused. A cow in the woods? That was too big of a coincidence. And not even ten minutes after they had seen the cape as red as blood.

Through the trees to their right they could see a young man walking along with a cow. The boy was humming sadly to himself as he pulled the cow behind him. The cow was a solid white color, surely as white as milk.

“That’s the cow,” Remus whispered, although there really wasn’t a reason to be quiet. With Nymphadora following him, he approached the boy. “Hello there!” Remus called to him. The boy stopped walking and looked up in surprise.

“Hello, sir,” Neville said. “Good day, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is a good day,” Remus agreed distractedly. “Say, what are you bringing that cow through the woods for?”

“I’m selling him in the market,” the boy said glumly.

“Selling?” Nymphadora asked, excited. “Well that’s funny, we happen to be looking for a cow to buy.”

“That’s right!” Remus exclaimed. Unfortunately, neither of them carried any money. Looking through his pocket, he found the beans again. He hesitated, knowing that the boy probably wouldn’t fall for it. The girl they saw earlier didn’t fall for it, so why should the boy? He figured he had nothing to lose, so he extracted half of the beans from his pocket and said, “Now, I’m not entirely sure I should be paying for a cow with these.” He held his hand out, showing Neville the beans. Neville looked very confused. “Because these beans are far more valuable than any cow.”

Nymphadora caught on. “Remus, no!” She faked a gasp. “We can’t trade those! They’re far too valuable.” Neville looked very intrigued, but still confused.

“We haven’t got money,” Remus sighed. “And we do need a cow,” he said to his wife. She nodded gravely.

“Well I suppose you’re right,” she said. “Not a very fair trade for us, but we are in need of a cow.” She turned to Neville.

Neville looked a little uneasy. “How much are those beans worth?”

“Oh, a few pounds each,” Nymphadora said. “Easily.”

Neville looked excited now. “A few pounds? Really?” Nymphadora and Remus both nodded earnestly. “Alright, I’ll trade you. But only if I can buy him back. If I ever get the money.”

“Of course!” Remus said, although he had no idea what exactly the witch needed the cow for and therefore had no idea if he’d be able to give it back to the boy or not.

Neville handed Trevor’s rope leash over to Remus, who in turn handed him the beans. Neville nodded at the couple, gave a quick thank you, and then began to hurry back home. As he left, he cast a few quick glances back at his cow.

“Alright, now we’ve got the cow. That’s one item down,” Nymphadora said excitedly. They decided that Nymphadora should take the cow back into town, as they didn’t want to wander through the woods dragging a cow behind them.  Although they only had one item out of four, they were optimistic.

After a long journey, Ginny had finally reached her dreaded destination. Her great aunt’s house. She hesitated once she reached the door, not really wanting to go in. But, she had to. She braced herself for the passive insults and the complaining that always accompanied her visits to her great aunt. She sighed, and then knocked on the door.

There was no answer for a few seconds, so she knocked again. An odd sounding voice called out from inside, “Come in!” Ginny couldn’t tell exactly what was odd about the voice. It didn’t sound like her great aunt. It sounded fake.

Since she had been invited in, she pushed the door open and entered the musty-smelling home. Ginny had never liked her great aunt’s house. It was small and cramped and the walls were painted a dull mustard color. There was only one room, and Ginny felt suffocated in the small space. The place gave off a faint air of foreboding (or maybe that was just Muriel). She was used to feeling out of place and uncomfortable in her great aunt’s house, but something was different this time. Something was just off.

“Ah, hello dear,” said the voice. Ginny followed the sound to find her great aunt’s bed. Muriel appeared to be in bed.

“Hello, Great Aunt Muriel,” Ginny said to her elder. Muriel always got mad if she was referred to by Ginny as anything but ‘Great Aunt Muriel.’

“It’s nice to see you, dear,” Muriel said, although she couldn’t possibly see Ginny from under the covers of her bed.

Ginny knew something had to be wrong. Muriel wasn’t a kind woman, and she never referred to anyone as dear. Maybe Muriel was dying. “I brought you some flowers,” Ginny said cautiously, placing the basket on her great aunt’s bedside table. “Are you feeling alright?”

Muriel sat up. Except, it wasn’t Muriel. It was Fenrir Greyback, dressed as Muriel. He was wearing one of her hideous floral dresses.

Ginny backed away from the bed. She wasn’t necessarily afraid, but she didn’t want to take any risks either. “Where’s my great aunt?” Fenrir just laughed. He had gotten out of the bed and was slowly moving towards Ginny.

“You know, I should be getting home soon,” Ginny said. “It’ll be getting dark soon.”

A faint growl came from the wolf. “You’re not going anywhere, little girl.”

Remus was in search of the cape as red as blood. He knew that girl had to be around somewhere. He would just have to do better, find a way to get that cape. Maybe he could offer her actual money. Or perhaps he could take it as payment for all of the bread she had taken from his bakery that morning. He was wandering aimlessly towards the direction he thought she had gone in when he heard a scream coming from somewhere a little to his left.

His first instinct was to assume his wife was in trouble, and he ran towards the sound. He jumped over tree stumps, sprinted around bushes, and almost ran straight into a boulder. Finally, he came across a house. It wasn’t an ordinary house, not one with walls and a roof. It was a house built into a large, round tree. It had a door and two windows. This was the house the scream had come from. He slowed once he reached the house, and stopped to catch his breath in front of the door. He wasn’t exactly young or athletic enough to run like that.

The scream wasn’t from Nymphadora, he knew that now. A small part of his mind told him to just leave, it wasn’t any of his business. But he knew that he had to help if someone was in trouble. He couldn’t just walk away. Maybe the girl was in trouble.

He opened the door without knocking and rushed into the house. He paused for a moment to look around the room, taking in the ugly, round walls and cramped living quarters. He wondered why anyone would want to live in a home like this, all the way in the woods. And then he noticed a wolfish man with an enlarged stomach laying on the bed, wearing an old lady’s dress. Screams were issuing from the man’s stomach. The sight was so bizarre Remus considered leaving. He couldn’t just walk away, though.

The wolf appeared to have… eaten someone. Possibly the girl with the cape. But it didn’t matter whom he had eaten, Remus knew he had to help. The wolf appeared too tired and full to care about Remus’s presence. He looked around the room and saw a knife in the kitchen area. He supposed he would have to cut the wolf open and free whoever was inside.

“My wife will not believe this,” he said to himself, and then grabbed the knife.

“That was insane,” Remus said. “And weird. And disgusting. What is going on in these woods?”

He had freed the girl and her great aunt from the wolf’s stomach. The girl, Ginny, was grateful, but her great aunt wouldn’t stop complaining about how long the rescue had taken. “And what am I supposed to do with this wolf?” She had asked in her grumpy tone.

“Skin it and make a blanket,” Remus had suggested.

Ginny had gotten out of Muriel’s house as soon as she could, and Remus was happy to go too. “I should be getting home now. Thank you for saving us,” she said.

“No problem,” he replied modestly, although he would probably be having nightmares after having cut open a wolf and witnessing two humans crawl out of his surprisingly spacious stomach. “What exactly happened, anyway? With the wolf?”

“My mother told me to go straight into the woods to visit my great aunt. ‘Not to delay or be misled.’ I should’ve listened to her advice, but I met this wolf. He seemed so nice.”

“Wolves can be tricky creatures,” Remus said. Ginny nodded.

“And he showed me things, many beautiful things, that I hadn’t thought to explore. They were off my path, so I never had dared,” she sighed. “I had been so careful, I never had cared.”

“You might want to try being more careful around strangers,” Remus suggested helpfully. Ginny moved a few inches away from him jokingly.

“And I know things now, many valuable things that I hadn’t known before. Do not put your faith in a cape and a hood, they will not protect you the way that they should.” Ginny pulled off her cape and draped it over her arm. “And take extra care with strangers, and even flowers have their dangers. And though scary is exciting, nice is different than good.” She held the cape out to Remus. He just looked at her blankly.

“You can have my cape, if you really want it,” she said. “I don’t need it anymore.”

Remus nodded and accepted the cape from her. “Yes, yes. Thank you very much, Ginny.” And with that, they parted ways.

“I cannot believe you! You traded our cow for beans? What’s wrong with you, boy?”

Neville’s grandmother was very angry with him. He had tried to explain what had happened, but she didn’t believe in magic beans. When he had shown her the beans, she began to yell at him. “These are worthless, Neville!” She threw the beans out of the open window and out of sight. Neville hung his head in shame.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have anyone to proofread, so there might be a few mistakes. Sorry if they are, and I hope they aren't too annoying. I try my best.


End file.
